Splintered

Chapter Seventy-Three: A Seat at the Table

Hazel wasn't sure how seeing Coriolanus Snow after all this time was going to affect her. But affect her, it absolutely did. Her mind and body hadn't missed a beat since their last encounter. Her skin flushed, her pulse ignited, and tremors threatened her limbs.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"Of what?" she blurted.

A deep laugh followed, and even more confidence oozed off him.

"The house, of course." Snow gestured to the walls and the general grandness of it all.

"Right." A raging blush coiled over her skin. "It's unlike anything I've ever seen. You?"

"It has promise." His eyes sparkled. "Potential. Just needs a bit of work. Perhaps some encouragement."

"Is that so?" Hazel noted how the smell of breakfast was growing stronger.

He feigned studying the walls, "It could be so much more with the proper treatment."

"I didn't realize you were interested in home renovation."

Snow's mouth twitched, his tongue darted out, sliding over his bottom lip.

Hazel squirmed, keeping her gaze locked on anything but him.

"Mmh, more like cultivation." The tone of his voice made her stomach twist, and the way he was observing her didn't help. He was examining again, openly exploring every inch of her person.

He was probing for clues, hunting for any hint of the answer he so evidently desired. All while she tried to hide the fact she didn't have one. Not yet.

I need more time.

She cleared her throat, battling the rapidly expanding blush, and refocusing on one of the expansive windows. Outdoors, as far as she could see, there were vast, manicured grounds, a sweeping expanse of bright green.

"It has enough space for a truly impressive flower garden," Snow continued, moving to her side, mouth dipping to her ear. "Lily would love it."

Snow, referring to her sister so casually, totally unnerved her. Like she was a neighbor kid or his own little sister.

Tearing her attention away from the yard, she poured every ounce of her energy into keeping herself composed.

"I'm sure she would."

Fingers brushed her ear, collecting a lock of her hair and she jerked. Her heart rate vaulted higher than the glittering ceiling.

"Hungry?" he inquired, offering her his arm.

Behind them, the three guards had dispersed to the corners of the room, but it was no less awkward. Hazel resolutely kept her stare away from Leo. However, she could feel him watching.

"Um, I'm not sure," she answered almost dumbly.

Relinquishing the strand of her hair between his fingers, Snow smiled softly.

His voice dipped so only she could hear, "Well, I certainly am."

Hazel watched him, wide-eyed as he captured her hand and threaded it around his elbow, patting her forearm once it was firmly in his hold.

"For the sake of our guests, at least pretend to be, hmm? Besides, I've heard that if you fake something long enough it might just start to feel real."

All she could do was swallow, nod and shove the latest rose into her pocket.

Guiding her through the double doors into the dining room, they were greeted by more excess than Hazel had ever seen.

Gold-plated ceilings winked at her along with even more icy marble, and tall windows dressed in cream drapes. A breakfast table stretched the length of the room, set with delicate porcelain dishes, towers of fresh fruit, and silver-domed trays releasing curls of mouth-watering steam.